Who's On First? : COMPLETE
by Ann
Summary: Someone has been kidnapped.  Or have they?  And by whom?  And why?
1. Chapter 1 of 7

Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King is copyrighted to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Production Company. The story, however, is copyrighted to the author. This story is for entertainment purposes only and cannot be redistributed without the permission of the author.

Title: Who's On First?

Author: Ann (geisterschloss )

A huge round of thanks to my large group of beta readers. I started this story over ten years ago, got stuck on it and moved on to other things. So some people beta'd it way back then, others now and I'm indebted to all of you! And thanks to Abbot and Costello for the title!

"**Who's on First?"**

**Part One**

"Still abstaining from breakfast, I see." T.P. Aquinas shook his head.

Lee watched in fascinated distaste as his friend poured a generous dollop of ketchup onto his plate, then used his fork to swirl the red substance into the scrambled eggs. "Well, if that's what you call breakfast, I'll stick to my coffee and brioche," he maintained.

"Lee, my boy, I assure you it's a gastronomic delight. Ketchup has to be the most unfairly maligned condiment in the entire culinary world."

"I'll take your word for it." Lee drained his cup of coffee just as their waitress bustled up with another full carafe.

"So, when is your lovely partner due back in town?" T.P. questioned as he speared a sausage, dipped it into the ketchup and egg mixture and took a large bite. After washing down the mouthful with a slug of orange juice, he continued, "I think I like it better when she's around to give you a little polish. Or at least to force you into a pretense of respecting your elders."

Lee glanced at his watch with a smile. "As a matter of fact, her flight's due into Dulles at noon."

"How is she doing? That was quite a close call she had in California back in February," TP said with friendly concern.

Lee's expression clouded as he thought back over those nightmarish days only a few months in the past. "Tell me about it. The Agency doctor finally gave her the green light to return to full-time active field status last week. She'd already promised Emily Farnsworth to help with the Inter-Agency Conference in London this week, but I'm sure that when she gets home there'll be no holding her back."

T.P. looked at him with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "Well, if anyone does hold her, I'm sure it will be you," he said mildly before taking another bite of breakfast.

Lee choked on his mouthful of coffee, barely managing to keep from showering the tabletop. As he wiped his chin with a napkin, he wondered just how much his friend knew about their supposedly secret marriage. It would be just like T.P. to have ferreted out every last detail, but say nothing. The sound of muted ringing coming from T.P.'s briefcase interrupted his contemplations.

"Saved by the bell, Scarecrow," T.P. chuckled as he reached for his phone. "T. Percival Aquinas," he answered with his musical inflection. "Yes, he's here; I'll put him on." He passed the handset over to Lee, saying, "The advantage of these portable phones is they put the world within your reach. Unfortunately the disadvantage is they also put you within the reach of the rest of the world."

Lee frowned as he listened to the person on the other end. "Who?" he questioned, then sighed. "Everything's always urgent with him . . . Okay, okay, you can tell him to come over here. We're at Reeve's Bakery on F Street."

As he handed the phone back to T.P. Lee explained, "Augie Swann's been trying to find me for the past hour. Apparently something's come up, that, quote, 'absolutely can't wait'. Of course with Augie, it could be anything from an imminent nuclear attack to the Russian ambassador coming down with the flu. Have your paths ever crossed?"

"I'm familiar with your Mr. Swann by reputation only. I'm afraid that DC's finer mud-wrestling bars have never been high on my list of places to frequent. And I didn't quite trust the driving record associated with his limousine service."

Lee grinned and shook his head. "Then you'll love Augie's latest business endeavour even more. When his limo company folded last year, he opened an escort service. It's a great way to pick up on the scuttlebutt going around town, but it's strictly a low budget operation. His clientele is still on the slightly seamy side."

Ten minutes later, Augie came through the door and made a beeline for Lee's table. Following close behind was a young redhead, wearing a short skirt and a tight jacket - both made of a garish material which bore a vague resemblance to leather. It was obvious, though, that no animal had ever sported hide of that particular texture, any more than her hair colour had originated anywhere but a bottle.

Augie wasted no time on pleasantries. "Lee, let me just say right off the bat that you'll be getting the family discount on this one," he said as they sat down. "Five, no, ten percent off my usual finder's fee. Mrs. King's a friend of mine too, and I'd hate to see anything happen to her."

His companion smiled brightly at the two men, then focused her attention on the plate of food in front of T.P.

"Augie, what're you talking about?" Lee exchanged glances with T.P., wondering if this was another of Augie's wild goose chases or if he should actually be concerned about his wife. "Nothing's happened to Amanda; I talked to her just last night. She's flying home right now."

Augie shook his head. "I don't think so. Angel, tell them what you heard."

They looked over at his companion, who was furtively helping herself to home fries from T.P.'s plate. She glanced up guiltily, licked her fingers and said, "Last night the guy I was with dragged me to some stupid party a bunch of Russians were having. Did you know they actually eat fish eggs! Ewww . . . can you think of anything more disgusting?"

"What happened at the party?" Lee asked, wondering how on earth Augie managed to find so many dim-witted women to work for him.

"Okay, well, the party was being given by some Russian ex . . . ex . . . ex-parrots," she finished in a rush.

"Parrots?" Lee asked incredulously.

T.P. placed a restraining hand on his friend's arm. "I'm not sure I follow you," he said to the young woman. "What do you mean 'ex-parrots'?"

"You know," she said with a touch of impatience, "guys who used to be in tight with the big shots at the embassy, but now they're on the outs."

Ex-patriots. Lee turned a snort of surprise into a cough, somehow managing not to make a caustic remark. Maybe, just maybe, if he let her babble on, she'd finally get to the point.

Seeing the look on Lee's face, Augie was quick to prompt her, "Get to the part about the phone calls."

"Oh, right," Angel continued blithely. "Well, the party went on and on, and around three a.m. the guy I'm with gets this phone call. He had one of those new phones - you know, the ones that fit in a briefcase." She looked down at her nails, frowning as she saw a dull patch. She quickly blew on them, then buffed her fingers against her jacket. "Wouldn't you love one of those? I mean you could call people from anywhere."

"Could you just get to the point?" Lee tried desperately to hold on to his last shreds of patience.

"Look, it would be a lot easier if you'd stop interrupting me," she shot back defensively. "Do you want to hear what happened, or not?"

"Of course we do," T.P. coaxed her patiently. "What was the phone call about?" Angel smiled gratefully at him and turned her back to Lee.

"Well, the first call was really short. Basically the guy says, 'Good work,' and hangs up. Then right away he phones this other guy and says something about how they managed to grab the package on the way to the airport. And how with Scarecrow's partner under lock and key, the rest of the job should be easy."

Lee paled. It was possible, of course; Amanda could have been snatched on the way to the airport.

Augie interrupted his musings. "When Angel checked in with me this morning, I knew you'd want to know about this ASAP. I made a few phone calls too – the rumour around town is that someone is planning to put you and your partner up on the auction block as a matched set. Wow, can you imagine the commission on _that_ deal . . ." His voice trailed off as he envisioned the riches such a transaction would entail. When Lee glared at him, he hastily added, "Not that I would help sell the two of you, of course. And I'll do whatever I can to help you get Mrs. King back."

Lee stood up abruptly, accidently knocking over his empty coffee mug. "Just let me know if you hear anything else through the grapevine. I'm heading back to the office."

"I'll go with you." T.P. hastily got to his feet and followed him. Augie tried to go after them, but was quickly intercepted by the waitress. She calmly handed him the bill and waited. As Augie frantically dug through his wallet for some money, Lee and T.P. headed out the door.

T.P. struggled to keep up with Lee, who was purposefully striding down the sidewalk toward his car. "Lee, slow down. You don't even know if she's really been kidnapped."

Lee paused just long enough to let his friend catch up. "That's why I want to get back to the Agency. At the very least, the airline can tell us if she made her flight or not."

"I'll head over to my office and do some digging around, myself," T.P. offered. "See if these rumours have any substance to them. You saw that girl; she's hardly what I'd call a reliable source."

The minute he was in his Corvette, Lee called Billy on the car phone and brought him up to date. As a result, there was a small file of information waiting for him on his arrival at the Agency.

"What have we got so far?" he asked brusquely as he entered Billy's office. The best way to keep his mind from conjuring up all sort of horrible possibilities was to pretend this was just any other case. Stick to the facts, Stetson, and stop thinking about what-ifs, he mentally lectured himself.

"Not a lot. The airline confirmed that someone used Amanda's ticket and passport to board the flight at 7:45 a.m., GMT. So if someone did kidnap her, they've taken precautions to get as much lead time as possible before we'd find out."

"What about airport security in Heathrow?" Lee asked.

"They faxed us over a still from their security cameras. Not the best calibre, I'm afraid – the quality of some of these new facsimile machines leaves a lot to be desired." He handed Lee a grainy picture showing a dark haired woman walking along a hallway in a crowd of people. Lee frowned and peered at it more closely. She was about the right height, but from this angle it was impossible to tell for sure one way or the other.

Billy continued calmly, "They're sending us a copy of the actual surveillance tape on the next flight out, but it won't arrive until late this afternoon."

"What about the flight crew on board the plane? They could give us more information." There had to be some way they could find out about Amanda right away. It was unthinkable that he might have to wait a few hours before he knew what, if anything, had happened to her.

Billy shook his head. "The airline is refusing to contact them while en route. I can't say that I blame them. If it is an impostor and they do something to make her nervous, the situation on board could turn sour very easily. It's much better to wait until they land. The flight took off on schedule at 8:30, so they should be at Dulles at noon our time. We still have plenty of time to intercept whoever it is."

Lee took a deep breath and tried to proceed logically, placing a firm lid on his churning emotions. "Who have we got out there today?"

Billy smiled at him wryly, knowing the effort it was taking for Lee to remain calm. "Frost and Micinski are on routine patrol. I've already had them contact Customs and told them to expect you."

"I'm on my way." Lee headed for the door. At least this gave him a task on which he could focus his energy.

Billy called after him, "Lee, call the minute you know anything. And good luck."

"Thanks. Hopefully I won't need it." He turned and headed quickly through the bullpen.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

Customs officer Stan Szynkaruk sighed as he looked at his watch. Five hours until quitting time, three days until the weekend, six weeks until his vacation, ten years until retirement. And here he sat, watching the endless parade of people go past his booth – visitors to the United States and citizens, vacationers and people travelling on business.

So far the day had been mind-numbingly dull. Well, except for the incident in the morning with the couple on the flight from Toronto. The husband had blusteringly answered all of Stan's routine inquiries. One small question directed towards the wife though, and she had immediately crumbled, tearfully confessing that the cigars her husband was bringing back were Cuban made. She had looked at Stan fearfully, as if expecting to be dragged off in chains, instead of just having the contraband items confiscated.

He watched as an influx of passengers from the newly arrived London flight entered the Customs area. There was the usual mixture of personality types – a few people rushing for the lines, desperate to be first. Others stood back and assessed which group seemed to be moving along most efficiently. Some stoically headed for the first line they saw, then stood there looking exhausted, obviously needing a vacation to recover from their vacation. Finally, there were the line-jumpers, moving from queue to queue – always certain that everyone else was moving faster. Occasionally, Stan would take a perverse pleasure in waiting until one of these got to his booth, then asking a long series of mindless questions.

He motioned for the next person in line to come forward. A brunette who appeared to be in her mid-thirties stepped up and handed him her Customs form and passport.

"Your name?" he asked brusquely.

"Amanda King."

"How long have you been out of the country?"

"Just a week," she said with a friendly expression on her face, as if smiling was something that came easily to her.

"Purpose of your trip?"

"Business."

"Anything to declare?"

"A few gifts for my family."

"What kind of gifts?" Stan watched her eyes as she easily answered his questions. Either she was telling the truth or was more adept at lying than the average person.

He was about to wave her on through, but something about her name jogged his memory. He frowned, then held up a hand to stem her chatter. "Wait one moment, please." He looked at her passport again, and compared it to a security bulletin distributed an hour earlier. "I'm sorry, it seems your passport's been red-flagged."

"Red-flagged?" she echoed, either actually confused or doing a good job of acting confused. "I don't understand. Why?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you. You'll have to go with these gentlemen." He indicated two armed guards who were approaching the booth in response to the silent alarm he'd triggered. Other passengers watched curiously as they quickly led her down a hallway toward a private office.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

Lee paced nervously around the small office space. Amanda's plane had landed half an hour earlier; what was keeping them? What if she hadn't been on the flight? What would his next course of action be? Who could have kidnapped her?

Instinctively, he reached under his jacket, checking for the tenth time in as many minutes that his gun was there. If it did turn out that an impostor had used Amanda's passport, she'd soon find herself in a great deal of trouble. And if she had any information about what had happened to Amanda, he'd find some way to drag it out of her.

No, he shook his head; he had to think positively. Amanda was fine. She would be the one getting off the plane.

But what if she wasn't . . .

As Lee anxiously bit his lip, he caught Micinski's eye and smiled self-consciously. At the sound of approaching footsteps outside the door, both agents drew their weapons. Lee felt his entire body tense as the door opened.

***** end of part one *****


	2. Chapter 2 of 7

**Part Two**

The two security guards entered the office, flanking their captive on either side.

"Amanda," Lee gasped in relief, reholstering his gun.

"Lee?" she said in surprise. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain everything in a minute." Turning to her escorts he said, "False alarm, guys. Sorry about that."

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. King. Glad you made it back in one piece." Agent Micinski grinned at her before he followed the guards out of the room.

As soon as the others were gone, Amanda turned back to Lee, demanding once again, "Lee, what's going on? Why are you here? And why did you have my passport red-flagged? Mmmf, mmmf, mmm . . ." Her flurry of questions was cut off as his lips met hers in an impassioned kiss.

Pulling back slightly, Amanda smiled into his eyes. "I missed you too, Lee, but don't you think this is a rather extreme way to get us some time alone?"

"Amanda, we thought you'd been kidnapped," he explained, still holding her close. He ran his hands up and down her back, as if seeking physical reassurance that she actually was there.

"Kidnapped?" she echoed in confusion. "But why?"

"One of Augie Swann's girls overheard a conversation at a party last night. Something about using Scarecrow's partner as bait. Your flight had already taken off by the time we found out; we had no way of knowing if you were all right or not. So I . . ."

"Drove down here at breakneck speed, I'm sure," Amanda chided gently. "I'm sorry you were so worried." She took advantage of the situation to indulge in another lingering kiss.

"It wasn't your fault," Lee said. "I'm just glad you're safe." Reluctantly drawing back from her, he continued, "I should call Billy and let him know everything's okay."

"I'll head over to baggage claim and get my suitcase." Amanda had only taken one step towards the door before he stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

"Amanda, I'm not letting you go out there alone. For all we know, someone is still trying to kidnap one or both of us. Augie's friend said they wanted to auction the two of us off."

Amanda sighed. If Lee was going to maintain his overprotective mode, the next few days would be very long indeed.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

Amanda settled back into the Corvette's passenger seat as they headed down the highway towards Arlington. "It's so good to be home again," she said with a smile, "regardless of the circumstances. I'm glad I don't have to be back at the Agency until tomorrow. I really missed Mother and the boys, and this way I can spend the afternoon with them."

"Did you ever think about anyone else?" Lee gently ran his fingers over the back of her hand.

"As always, Scarecrow, I missed you most of all." She picked up his hand and gave it a quick kiss. "Talking on the phone just isn't the same as seeing you every day."

"Well, that phone call we had the other night was pretty steamy. Hanging up at the end of it was almost as frustrating as having to leave you at your door."

"You'd just better be right about it being a clean line or our mystery marriage isn't going to be much of a mystery anymore," Amanda smiled.

"Relax, I checked it myself. Although I'm not sure how 'clean' it was by the time we finished our conversation," he smirked. "Besides, if someone did overhear us, I'll just tell them it was some new code we were testing out."

She laughed. "A code? And what exactly would it be a code for?"

"Oh, I don't know . . ." He glanced over at her, his lips curving up in a rakish grin. "How about an incredibly covert mission – really deep undercover. And only two agents have clearance for direct contact."

"Hmm . . . sounds like the kind of mission you'd need to rehearse over and over again, to make sure you get all the details exactly right."

"Well, since you're planning on spending the afternoon with the family, how about you come over tonight and we can go through another trial run?" Lee suggested slyly. "I can think of one figure in particular that needs closer scrutiny."

Amanda groaned. "Stetson, did anyone ever tell you that puns are the lowest form of humour?"

"You mean like the case at the Cumberland where we got 'Armin'?"

"Exactly." She rolled her eyes.

Lee tried to keep a straight face. "Well right now, I'm more concerned about getting my woman."

He laughed as she swatted him with the back of her hand. The car phone rang, interrupting them. Lee picked it up. "Hi, Billy, what's going on?" he greeted the caller.

Amanda watched as the playful expression quickly disappeared from his face. She might have known – the call was right on cue. Whenever they tried to plan some private time together, the Agency found some way to intrude.

She tried to follow the one-sided conversation as best she could. "Yes, of course I'm sure Amanda's okay." Lee glanced over at her with a bemused look. "You didn't actually phone me just to ask that, did you?"

She wondered what could have come up. Prior to her trip to England, she hadn't been involved in any active cases. And her paperwork from the conference could hardly be this pressing.

The expression on Lee's face abruptly changed from mild irritation to disbelief. "You what?" he asked in an astonished tone. "But that's impossible; she's sitting right here beside me . . . Yeah, we'll be right there." He hung up the phone and turned to her with a puzzled frown. "Billy just got a call at the Agency. Someone claims they actually kidnapped you."

"What?" Amanda was as astonished as he. "Lee, what is going on today?"

"I wish I knew. Nothing is making any sense."

"Well, I can definitely say that I haven't been kidnapped," she pointed out.

"Not according to the message Billy got. And not only do they claim to be holding you, but I'm supposed to meet with them to arrange an exchange." He shook his head.

"So much for our plans," Amanda sighed in frustration.

"Well, the sooner we get this cleared up, the sooner we can go home." He pressed down on the accelerator and they sped past the turnoff to Arlington and on towards DC.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

Lee anxiously strode across the bullpen, Amanda close on his heels. After only a cursory knock on the door, they entered Billy's office. "What's going on?" Lee asked without any preamble.

"I wish I knew. Amanda, glad to see you made it back here safe and sound." Billy greeted her then indicated a tape player sitting on his desk. "The FBI delivered this cassette an hour ago. The message came in on their public line with instructions to forward it to us. And no," he held up a hand to forestall Lee's question, "they weren't able to get a full trace. Somewhere in southern Maryland, but that's all."

He leaned across the desk and pressed the play button. The voice that emanated from the machine had an odd mechanical inflection, obviously altered from the speaker's normal voice.

"Scarecrow, we've got your partner. Be sure to attend the three p.m. tour of the Folger Shakespeare Library this afternoon and bring a copy of the current Eastern European roster. Sometime during the tour, you will be contacted. Please understand, if you do not follow these instructions or if you do not come alone, your partner will die." There was a click, followed by silence.

"This doesn't make any sense." Amanda spoke up for the first time. "I'm right here; I haven't been kidnapped." She sat down in one of the arm chairs, a puzzled look on her face.

"The original information we got from Augie said you'd been grabbed on the way to the airport. Did anything unusual happen this morning?" Billy asked. "Did you notice anyone following you?"

Amanda shook her head. "I stayed with Emily Farnsworth at her townhouse this past week. She dropped me off at the airport and everything was fine. I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary."

"And Emily wouldn't have left you if she thought there was a problem." Lee paced across the office and back again. "Something doesn't feel right about all this. Something just doesn't track."

"Let's look at it logically. There are basically two possibilities," Billy reasoned. "Either these people are bluffing, or they grabbed someone else by mistake. I initiated a flash priority head count as soon as you confirmed Amanda was okay. Most of the agents have already checked in." He pushed the intercom on his desk. "Martinez, who's still unaccounted for?"

"Umm . . ." They could hear a rustling of paper. "Just Lopez, Shane, and Desmond. Oh and Abernathy, of course."

"You know, Billy, it could be Francine," Lee said slowly. "The two of us worked together on several cases the past few months while Amanda was on restricted duty."

Billy nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe someone saw you with her, put two and two together and came up with three."

"Wouldn't Francine be one of first agents to call in? What's her assignment this week?" Amanda asked.

"She took today off; Jonathan was back in town and she wanted to spend some time with him."

"Well, I'd better phone my mother and let her know that I won't be home for a while." Amanda headed back into the bullpen.

A few minutes later Agent Martinez stuck his head in the door. "Billy, about Francine. She's -"

"Missing?" Lee asked quickly.

"No, just really ticked off at having her day off interrupted at what she said was, and I quote, 'a most inopportune time'. I think we'll be getting an earful when she gets back."

"Right now I'd say that's the least of our worries," Billy said as Martinez left the office. He looked over at Lee and frowned. "Okay, we're back to square one. Either they've got no one and are bluffing, or -"

"Or we have no idea who the hell they have," Lee finished for him, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I think I might know." They both looked up, startled as Amanda walked back into the office, a look of concern on her face.

***** end of part two *****


	3. Chapter 3 of 7

**Part Three**

Lee walked over to Amanda. "What do you mean, you think you know who it is?"

"Joe," she said simply.

"Who?" Billy asked while at the same time Lee echoed "Joe?" incredulously.

"I think they took my ex-husband, Joe. When I phoned Mother, she had just gotten a frantic call from Carrie – Joe's fiancée," she explained to Billy. "Joe's been in Boston the last few days, doing the legal work to facilitate some corporate donations for EAO. He was supposed to catch the 11 o'clock flight home last night. Only he never showed up. The police won't do anything of course, because it hasn't been 24 hours."

"Wait a second," Lee interjected, "that doesn't mean he was kidnapped. There could be any number of logical explanations."

"Except that Carrie checked with EAO and Joe's meeting ended at nine last night. He took a taxi directly from the meeting to the airport. But he never got on his plane. And you said I was supposedly captured en route to the airport."

"But why would anyone think Joe is my partner?" Lee asked in confusion.

"Same reason you thought they might have Francine," Billy pointed out. "You and Amanda haven't spent much time in the field together lately. Maybe their information was a bit off – maybe they thought Scarecrow was working with MR. King."

"Augie's girl did say that these guys were out of favour at the Russian Embassy – their sources might not be that reliable," Lee mused.

"Not to mention how they got the message to the Agency – they had to use the FBI's public line," Amanda pointed out. "Not exactly the work of seasoned professionals."

"You know, this might just explain everything," Billy agreed.

"What do we do now?" Amanda asked anxiously.

Lee could see the relief in her eyes when he answered without hesitation, "For starters, I'm going to that meeting."

"Lee -" Billy began to say something, only to be cut off.

"Billy, I don't care what the Agency policy is on this one," Lee said forcefully. "Joe's just an innocent bystander in all this - I've got to do something to try to get him back."

"Lee," Billy cut him off just as forcefully, "what I was going to say was that you can use a full Agency team for backup. Be sure to wear a wire and homing device. If these guys are as amateur as they seem to be, we might be able to clean up this whole mess this afternoon. Now get moving; that tour starts in less than an hour."

"Thank you, sir," Amanda said as she and Lee hurried out the door.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

"Amanda," Lee said quietly. She kept her eyes on the road, manoeuvring the Corvette through the mid-day traffic as conscientiously as if taking the road test for her license. "Amanda," he said again, "are you okay?"

She finally looked over at him as they stopped for a red light. "I'm just worried about Joe," she said anxiously. "So many things could go wrong; we both know that."

"Everything's going to be okay; we'll get him back." He put his hand over hers where it rested on the gearshift.

Amanda shook her head. "You can't say that for sure." The light changed and she moved her hand out from under his as she shifted. "They could be doing anything to him right now and there's nothing we can do. I can't help but feel responsible. They took him in my place."

"I know. But at least they didn't kidnap Joe for revenge or to get information out of him. It sounds like a straightforward trade. And this dummied up version of the European roster looks very convincing." He indicated the file on his lap.

"The rumours also said they wanted to have Scarecrow and partner," Amanda said pointedly. "This whole meet is more than likely a setup so they can grab you, too. Or were you counting on me not figuring that out?"

Lee sighed. He had in fact been hoping that particular detail would escape her notice. "I know. But we know what they're planning. And they don't know that we know." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Now that sounds like something you'd say."

"Lee, this isn't funny." She appreciated Lee's attempt to use humour to diffuse the situation, but the knot in her stomach merely tightened further.

"I know, and I'll be careful; I promise. I'll keep an open connection to you in the van the whole time." He held up a device resembling a combination key chain and miniature flashlight but which in fact contained a powerful transmitter. "We can't risk my wearing an earpiece; these guys can't be that inept. But at least you'll be able to hear what's going on. And if by some chance they do grab me, you can follow the homing signal to find us."

"I just hope Joe is still okay. Remember when I was kidnapped by those Russians who thought I was you?" Amanda said quietly. "I was so naive – I kept trying to convince them that I was just a civilian until one of them pointed out that unless I actually was Scarecrow I'd have no value to them and they'd kill me."

"I know. I'm sure Joe will keep his mouth shut." Seeing that they were nearing their destination, he said, "Okay, drop me here – I'll walk the last two blocks. More than likely they've got some kind of lookout posted." Lee carefully checked his bug to make sure the switch was in the 'off' position. Leaning over towards Amanda, he whispered, "With any luck we'll get this whole mess cleared up this afternoon. I'll be back before you know it and we'll have the whole evening to be Mr. and Mrs. Stetson."

Amanda reached out and grabbed one of his lapels, pulling him close enough for a quick kiss. "As someone once said to me, 'Be careful; I love you'."

"I love you, too." Lee activated the transmitter, then opened the door. After a quick look around he got out of the car. He winked at Amanda and hurried off down the street.

She watched him go, the small part of her mind that wasn't worried about the case admiring the view as he walked away from her. After a few moments, she restarted the car and drove to meet with the surveillance team in the van, unable to shake the feeling that things weren't going to be as simple as Lee hoped.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

"Welcome to the Folger Shakespeare Library - home to the world's largest collection of Shakespearean manuscripts, rare books and paintings. The Folger is celebrating its 55th anniversary this year. Founded in 1932, the library was a gift to the people of the United States from Henry Clay Folger and his wife, Elizabeth. My name is Cynthia, and I'll be your guide this afternoon. Feel free to ask questions as we go along."

Lee scanned the other people in the group as unobtrusively as possible, while feigning interest in what their tour leader was saying. She was an energetic young woman, bubbling over with enthusiasm in the manner of most people who worked in Washington's many tourist attractions.

"Normally our tour would begin in the Founder's Room. Since it's booked for a meeting this afternoon, we'll be making a brief stop in the Old Reading Room, which is normally off-limits to the public, followed by the Great Hall and Elizabethan Theatre. If you'll just follow me, we'll get started."

Lee trailed along at the rear of the small group, keeping an eye out for anything or anyone out of the ordinary. He hoped that he would actually be contacted by someone for a meet, but knew that Amanda's fears about a possible trap weren't unwarranted.

He scanned the small group, considering each person in turn. There was a family with two small children in tow. Lee wondered at their choice of entertainment; the Air and Space Museum would have been a much better destination. There was also a middle-aged couple, the wife taking a keen interest in everything their guide pointed out. Her husband seemed much less enthused. The rest of the group consisted of several pupils, all dutifully taking notes, and their teacher. No doubt they'd be required to write a full report on their afternoon.

"The Old Reading Room has several items of interest." Cynthia spoke softly to keep from disturbing the numerous scholars seated at tables throughout the room. "The room itself is a replica of a Tudor hall. The stained glass window at this end depicts the Seven Ages of Man from Jacques' speech in 'As You Like It'." She continued to point out details as she led the group down the length of the room. "The bust of Shakespeare is a copy from the memorial at his grave in Trinity Church in Stratford-on-Avon."

Lee found his mind wandering everywhere but on what the tour guide was saying. The beautiful surroundings were lost on him as he kept a sharp eye out, scrutinizing each person they passed as a possible contact and listening in on several conversations at once.

"Man, this is beyond lame."

"Mark, stop bothering that man. He's trying to read."

"What a colossal waste of time. Who cares about some dead English guy anyway?"

They exited into the Great Hall, which like the Reading Room, was a long, wood-panelled room, its vastness also amplified by a high-vaulted ceiling. Cynthia was quick to point out the features of this room, such as the intricately tiled floor. "You'll notice there are two coats of arms on opposite walls of the room." She indicated each end with a broad sweep of her arm. "Suitably, the one for the United States is located at the west end, nearest to the Capitol building, while the arms of Great Britain is in the east."

Lee took advantage of her commentary to take another scan of the people in the group. So far, none of them had seemed to be paying him much attention. Maybe his contact wasn't someone on the tour, but would approach him at some point along the way.

"Get your hands in the air! Bang!"

He whirled around, startled at the sudden noise. "Bang!" He glanced down as the sound came again, to see a boy about four years of age, pointing at him, his finger extended to imitate the barrel of a gun. Lee frowned in annoyance but the child didn't seem fazed, pointing his finger again and taking another 'shot'.

The boy's mother hurried over and took him by the arm. "Mark, I told you to stop scaring people; it's not nice." She gave Lee an apologetic look as she steered her wayward son to the side of the group. His heart resumed its normal rhythm as their tour guide led them into the next room.

"Our last stop on the tour is the theatre. Each year we host a variety of student competitions, concerts and educational programs. Also, from September to June of each year, our own company of actors and actresses stages productions of Shakespearean plays. 'A Winter's Tale' is currently running until the end of the month."

Cynthia continued her commentary as she walked the group down the centre aisle. "Our theatre is a reproduction of an Elizabethan inn yard. This is one of the few places in the world where you can actually see Shakespeare's plays performed in the kind of setting they were originally written for. The inscription on the canopy over our heads – 'All the world's a stage' – is an inspiration to everyone who is fortunate enough to have the chance to perform here."

Several times Lee thought he caught Cynthia looking at him. Was it just his imagination or did she look vaguely familiar? On the other hand, why would his contact be someone so easy to find? There would be a record of her employment with the Library – making it ludicrously simple to track her down. Of course, she could be using a fake name and credentials.

The middle-aged man standing next to him gave a gaping yawn and glanced at his watch. Catching Lee's eye, he said, "It's bad enough I had to learn this drivel back in school. Now my wife is dragging me to museums and libraries on our vacation. I wanted to drive to Baltimore for the Orioles game this afternoon but no, she insisted we get some culture." Lee smiled politely, then resumed his surveillance of the room.

The tour ended rather pointedly in the vicinity of the gift shop. The others dispersed, examining such Shakespearean themed trinkets as "Rebel With Applause" T-shirts and "Ah, there's the rub" pencil erasers.

Lee stood at the entrance, trying to fight down his feelings of impatience. It was now almost four o'clock; surely his contact should have found him by now.

"Hello again."

He looked up, his body tensing as he realized this must be it.

"You don't remember me, do you?" It was Cynthia, the tour guide, who was approaching him. "Last year . . . Parisian Intrigue . . .the Tony Martinet play? I played the role of the French Chanteuse."

"Oh, yes." Lee remained wary. This explained why she seemed familiar. But was it just a coincidence or was she actually his contact?

"I just loved the last minute re-write of the final scene," she continued. "Improvisational theatre at its finest. Only a true visionary of modern theatre such as Tony Martinet could have pulled off such an ambitious plan – transposing people in modern dress into the middle of a play about World War II. The juxtaposition of characters added so much to the subtext, don't you think?"

"Yes, exactly," Lee hedged, trying desperately to figure out if she was on the level or going somewhere with her chatter. "I'm afraid I didn't get to participate in another performance. I was called away to eastern Europe - family emergency. I was glad to hear that the play did so well."

"Well, I don't think we ever did it as well as opening night. Of course that's probably because you weren't available for the rest of the run. The actor who ended up replacing you wasn't nearly as talented. Or handsome." Cynthia smiled up at him.

When he failed to respond, she continued, "I'd love to give you a private backstage tour of our theatre some time. You can call me here any afternoon." She glanced at her watch. "I'm afraid I've got to be going – my next tour starts in a few minutes."

Lee watched her walk away. That was it? No meet? He glanced around again, wondering what, if anything, had gone wrong. She should have responded to his mention of eastern Europe at least.

He took the key chain out of his pocket and spoke quietly for the benefit of the group listening in. "Okay, this is a wash. There's no sign of anyone. We might as well pack up and go back to the Agency. Amanda, why don't you pick me up out front on East Capitol Street? I'll see you in a few minutes."

He took one last look around before heading for the exit. It didn't make any sense, but then, what did that day? Maybe whoever it was didn't really have Joe. Maybe this whole thing was one giant hoax . . . or a setup to distract them from . . . what? He couldn't get a handle on the situation at all. If only they had one solid fact to go on.

Lee's contemplations were interrupted by the sound of shouting from outside. He rushed out the door and down the walkway. His heart sank as he saw his Corvette sitting at the curb. The driver's side door was open but Amanda was nowhere in sight.

"What happened?" he demanded anxiously of the group of people milling about.

"Some woman just was abducted, right in broad daylight," an older woman said in a panic. "I don't know what this town is coming to."

"My wife ran inside to call the police," another man offered. "I noticed the car when it pulled up - always wanted a 'Vette myself. As soon as the woman got out, this gray van pulls up and two guys jump out. I thought it was a car-jacking at first, but they pushed her into the van and drove off."

"Which way did they go?" Lee asked impatiently. The man had barely raised his hand before Lee was in his car. He hurriedly drove off in the indicated direction, needing to make the effort even though the trained agent in him knew that it would be futile. A head start of a few minutes would be more than enough time to get out of the area.

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Amanda's body swayed slightly as the van took another sharp corner. Blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back, it was a struggle to keep her balance as the vehicle negotiated yet another complex set of turns. By her calculation, they had been en route for over an hour.

At first she'd concentrated on memorizing the sequence of twists and turns of their journey. But now she finally gave up the task as hopeless – seven of the last ten turns had been to the right. No doubt her captors were doubling back and prolonging the drive, with the obvious intent of preventing her from remembering their course.

The thought that she'd been trying so hard to repress ruthlessly forced itself into her consciousness. They hadn't been after Lee at all. She had been the target. It could only mean one thing – whomever her abductors were, they must have realized their mistake with Joe and were trying to rectify it. Joe must have told them that he wasn't an agent, and thereby sealed his fate.

Maybe they'd just let him go, a part of her mind argued, but the seasoned agent in her knew better. As a civilian, Joe would have no value to them but would instead be a liability. If he wasn't already dead, he soon would be.

The guilt of the likelihood of being even indirectly responsible for the death of someone she cared about crushed down on her. Her eyes stung, and she fought back the impulse to give way to tears. A single teardrop leaked out and immediately soaked into the rough cloth covering her eyes. She barely even noticed when the van finally came to a stop.

Amanda jerked her head up at the scrape of the sliding door being dragged open, her blindfolded eyes turning instinctively if futilely towards the sound. Rough hands seized her, pulled her upright and forced her out of the van. Only the firm grip on her arm kept her from falling as she tripped over the threshold. The same hands shoved her along for another twenty feet or so before pulling her to a stop.

Amanda heard the sound of a key turning in a lock, then a door opening. Her captor gave her an abrupt push in the small of the back and she stumbled forward. She tensed, wondering what would happen next.

Was she alone? Would some new assailant accost her? She flinched at the sound of the door slamming behind her. In the silence that followed she could detect nothing except her own shallow breathing. Then . . .

"Amanda!" a familiar voice exclaimed in immense relief.

"Joe?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, it's me." His fingers fumbled with her blindfold, quickly pulling it off and discarding it. She blinked, trying to refocus her eyes as he untied the rope holding her hands together. "What's going on?" he asked anxiously.

"Joe, I was so worried about you," she said, neatly evading his question. As soon as she was free of her restraints she flung her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're okay." She hugged him tightly, overcome with relief at finding him alive.

"Amanda, what's going on?" he repeated uneasily. "The last thing I remember is being stopped at a sobriety roadblock on my way to the airport in Boston. A few hours ago I woke up here. No one will tell me what's going on; they just keep talking nonsense about a scarecrow. I'm relieved to see you, but Amanda… what are you – what are _we_ - doing here?"

Amanda glanced around the room, wondering if they were under surveillance. She kept her arms around him and pressed herself closer, whispering in his ear, "Just follow my lead until I figure out what they want, okay? What have you told them so far?"

Before he could answer, she heard the sound of the door being unlocked again. She pulled back and turned to face the door, instinctively keeping herself between Joe and whomever was about to enter. "Let me handle this," she threw over her shoulder in a whisper.

Her eyes widened in shocked recognition as an older man walked into the room, flanked by an armed guard. The first man's face creased into a smile. "My dear, I've so looked forward to seeing you again. I must say, the years have been good to you."

"Oh, no," Amanda groaned, as all the jumbled pieces of the day's events finally came together.

***** end of part three *****


	4. Chapter 4 of 7

**Part Four**

After twenty minutes of fruitlessly searching the nearby streets, Lee finally had to admit defeat. He drove back to the Agency and headed into the bullpen. The other agents instinctively moved out of his way, clearing a path for him to Billy's office.

His boss met him at the door. "Damn. No luck, huh?" he surmised, ushering Lee into his office. "What exactly happened out there, Lee?"

"What do you mean, what happened?" Lee said in self-disgust. "They grabbed Amanda and made a clean getaway. I was so sure I was the target that I never even considered that they might have figured out their mistake with Joe. I didn't even suggest that she carry some sort of homing device." He dropped down into the first available chair.

Billy walked by Lee on the way to his desk, patting the younger man's shoulder consolingly. "Look on the bright side; at least we know they only took her for profit – they probably won't hurt her."

"Save it, Billy, I gave Amanda the same pep talk about Joe." Lee realized now what hollow consolation those words were.

"Okay, any ideas about what to do next?" Billy said briskly, sitting down at his desk.

"I'll tell you exactly what _I'm_ going to do." Lee straightened up. "I'm going to find some way to let myself get kidnapped."

"What? Lee, you're not thinking rationally."

"Billy, these guys want to auction the two of us off. We have no idea who they are or where they're holding Amanda and Joe." Lee got to his feet and began pacing around the small space. "Or if Joe is even still alive. We can sit around here and wait for them to make a move or we can do something. I say we keep a homing device on me constantly and set them up. We know they're determined to get the both of us. At least then we'll have some control of the situation."

"I still don't like the idea." Billy shook his head.

"You have a better one?" Lee countered. "Dammit, Billy; I have to do something."

Billy paused for a moment, then asked, "And once they have you?"

"Follow the signal to get us back." Lee sighed, sat down again, then immediately jumped up and walked over to the window to stare moodily out at the bullpen. "Unless you'd prefer to wait for the bidding to start and try to purchase us?"

Billy had to smile in spite of the situation. "You, I think we could afford. Amanda, on the other hand, is worth a lot more."

Lee turned from the window. "You don't have to tell me that," he agreed fervently.

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Amanda closed her eyes briefly as if trying to block out the reality of their situation. It had to be a dream. Any moment now, she'd wake up and find herself in her bedroom in Arlington or, even better, in their bedroom in Lee's apartment. Surely this could not be happening again. She opened her eyes to find that despite her wishful thinking, she really was standing there looking at . . .

"Zinoviev," she said in a hollow voice.

"Scarecrow, my dear, you look as lovely as ever. So, how long has it been?" His tone was as jovial as if they were simply renewing their acquaintance at a cocktail party.

"Around three and a half years," she said shortly.

"You two know each other?" Joe asked in amazement, his gaze darting back and forth between them.

"Purely a business arrangement, I assure you," Zinoviev replied calmly.

"He kidnapped me and arranged a trade for a Russian agent," Amanda explained with an edge to her voice. She'd only been with the Agency for a few months at the time of her abduction and the intense fear she'd felt on that occasion wasn't easily forgotten.

"Come, come, there's no need to get into a temper." The elderly Russian rubbed his hands together affably. "In our business, you can't take this sort of thing personally. If nothing else, you know I'm a reasonable man."

That was another thing Amanda clearly recalled - Zinoviev's demeanor had always been overly congenial, even when casually mentioning that he might have to kill her.

"It's been far too long." He shook his head. "Not that I haven't kept up with your reputation. Such wonderful work you've done these past few years. Unfortunately, far too much was at the expense of my homeland."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she couldn't help replying sarcastically.

"Must be the result of this new partnership. Not that you're not a wonderful agent yourself, my dear." Turning to Joe, Zinoviev added, "Have you met her previous partner? To put it politely, he was holding her back with a vengeance. A pleasant enough fellow, to be sure, but he had little to recommend himself other than an excessive sense of loyalty to Scarecrow here."

Joe looked more than slightly confused. "Previous partner?" he echoed.

"That would be Lee," Amanda supplied, with a meaningful glance in his direction. "I think you've met him once or twice." She hoped that Joe would have the sense to play along with the charade.

"So are you at all curious as to whether your new partner is equally as loyal? If you'd like, we could run a few tests." Zinoviev smiled in his disarming way, but something in his eyes made Amanda's blood run cold.

"No," she protested hurriedly. "You don't need to do that."

The Russian continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Unfortunately my customers are expecting me to deliver the promised merchandise in mint condition." She relaxed, at least for the moment. "I have no doubt, though, that whoever ends up purchasing the two of you will find some persuasive methods of extracting information." He turned to go. "And don't even bother trying to escape. What was that charming phrase you once told me? Ah, yes, 'The place is surrounded'."

She sighed in relief as the two men abruptly exited the room.

"Amanda, what the hell is going on here?" Joe demanded before the door was fully closed. "Why do they think I'm -"

She cut him off quickly. "Shh . . . they've probably got the room bugged." She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face towards hers. Raising her voice, she said, "Joe, darling, I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried about you."

"What are you doing?" Joe asked nervously, taking a step back.

"Shh . . ." she repeated, pulling him towards her again. Leaning over so her words were barely more than a breath of air in his ears, she whispered, "Joe, they think you work for the Agency as my partner. Just play along, okay?" Stepping back, she said, "I can't believe Zinoviev held a grudge all these years. It was bad enough that the Agency had to cut a deal to get me back once."

"You think they'll do that again?" Joe asked. His voice was full of hope; she just hoped it wasn't misplaced.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Either that or someone else will buy us. It's not often a pair of seasoned agents is up for grabs. Of course, we could try to escape." She moved across the room, closely examining the boarded up window. Without any kind of tools at their disposal, she knew it was a long shot at best.

"I don't think the window's much of an option," she concluded ruefully a few minutes later. "It's sealed up pretty tight."

"Well, then, 'Scarecrow', what happens now?" Joe asked. He sat on the floor and leaned his back against the wall, watching her as she moved around the room, systematically scanning the walls and door. "You know, it still takes me by surprise. You . . . I mean, me, working at the Agency. Not to mention being a partner to such an illustrious spy. I mean, it's been, how long now?"

"Um . . . four years, eight months and six days," Amanda answered absently while inspecting a crack in the wall. A tiny microphone could easily have been fitted into the narrow space. No sign of a video camera, though. "But then again, you didn't become my partner right away."

She moved on to the door – the hinges were on the other side, of course. She sighed in frustration. Not that she'd really expected to find something so quickly, but it would have been a pleasant surprise on a day that had held far too many unpleasant ones.

"No, of course not. That would just be insane." Joe rested his head in his hands. "What the hell was I thinking, getting involved in this line of work?" There was more than a touch of bitterness in his tone. "I should have been content with a normal suburban lifestyle. It was a perfectly good life, you know." He looked up, adding pointedly, "In fact, at one time I was pretty sure that it was exactly what I wanted."

"I guess that's one way to look at it." Amanda paced around the room again, there had to be a flaw, some weakness, something, anything she could turn to their advantage.

"And another way is?" he said acerbically.

At his reproving tone, she turned back from her scrutiny of the room and walked over to him.

"Joe," she said quietly.

"What?" He raised his head again and looked at her. In his eyes she could see a jumble of emotions – fear, anger, accusation – and she realized she'd have to play Lee's part in more ways than one. She was used to him taking the lead in situations like this, helping her find her strength by demonstrating his own. Now she would have to do the same thing for Joe, who, after all, hadn't chosen this line of work in the first place.

She now had a fuller appreciation of what Lee had gone through when Zinoviev had kidnapped her in his place. This time though Joe was the innocent civilian who had been mistakenly taken and she was the one who felt responsible. The guilt of the possible consequences weighed down on her and she could understand better than ever how Lee had been driven to committing treason back then even though he'd only known her for a relatively short amount of time.

She sighed and sat down beside Joe. Laying a gentle hand on his arm, she said, "That it was something you needed, a chance to do something important, to make a difference in the world." She spoke cautiously, mindful of the other pairs of ears that might be listening. "Joe, that day I recruited you at the train station . . ."

He looked into her eyes. "What about it?"

She closed her hand over his. "It was the best day of your life," she said fervently. "Trust me."

"But it's such a dangerous line of work," he protested.

"True, but it has its rewards as well. We've gotten out of tighter spots than this in the past four years."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Despite his tone she thought he looked more hopeful than he had a few minutes before.

Choosing her words carefully, she said, "You know, a number of years ago a friend of mine wanted to take a job working for the Emergency Aid Organization in Africa. At first I thought he was wrong to go. But he wasn't. It was the right choice for him; it was something he had to do – just like this job is right for you."

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"Would you like a refill?"

"What?"

The bartender indicated Lee's almost empty glass. "Would you like a refill?" he repeated.

"No, thanks." Lee tossed back the last of his drink, relishing the numbing sensation of the alcohol coursing down his throat. He wished momentarily that he could afford the luxury of indulging in a second drink. Not to mention a third and a fourth. Enough so that the events of the day would become a blurred memory. Or at least so the questions that kept reverberating in his head would stop.

Where was Amanda at that very moment? What was happening to her? Were they demanding information from her, insisting that she cooperate? And most of all, how could he have been so stupid as to let this happen?

Dammit, Amanda! He slammed his glass down on the bar hard enough so that the bartender looked over at him again. Why had she been the one who was captured? It should have been him.

Now both Amanda and Joe were being held hostage. And if anything happened to the two of them, their sons would be left orphans. He knew only too well how that felt.

Lee tightened his grip around the empty glass, idly listening to the ice cubes softly clinking together. At least Jamie and Phillip had a grandmother who loved them. And they had him.

Sure, they didn't know him all that well, but he would be there for them no matter what happened. That is, if they even wanted him around – the man who had caused the death of both their parents.

Morosely, he continued his train of thought. Around the office, he'd just be another agent who'd suffered the loss of a partner. To Dotty and the boys, he'd be nothing more than Amanda's bereaved boyfriend.

No one would know that Amanda – beautiful, sweet, smart, sexy Amanda – had been his wife. That after getting to know him better than anyone else ever had, against all odds, she'd fallen in love with him.

Lee's line of reasoning was so depressing, he had to smile in spite of himself – picturing how furious Amanda would be with him if she knew what he was thinking. After all, he was supposed to be the optimist who always found the silver lining. Surely if he looked hard enough, there would be one in this situation, too.

He should concentrate on the celebratory dinner he'd have with Amanda once he had her back safe and sound, not to mention the post-dinner festivities in the bedroom. He closed his eyes briefly and envisioned the moment when this whole mess was over and he'd have her back in his arms again. Unfortunately when he opened them again, he was still in the same predicament as before.

Well, this place was a bust. If he was going to get kidnapped it wasn't going to happen here. Tossing a few bills onto the bar, Lee headed out the door. He glanced at his watch – five minutes before midnight. Still pretty early. That must be it, he thought. The kidnappers were waiting until it got later before making a move. There were still too many people around to do anything yet.

Restlessly he walked out of the door, trying to come up with another potential location for an abduction. Surely there was some place he hadn't thought of yet, where it would be easy to get kidnapped. Amanda and Joe had both managed it and they hadn't even been trying.

***** end of part four *****


	5. Chapter 5 of 7

**Part Five**

"So what should we do now?" Joe asked.

"It's getting late; we should probably try to get some sleep." Amanda gestured towards a lumpy, stained mattress lying in the corner. "I don't think anything else will be happening tonight."

"Sleep? Are you kidding? Amanda, there are men with guns out there," he reminded her unnecessarily, pointing towards the door.

"Well, at the moment, there's not a lot we can do." Amanda walked over to the mattress and sat down, the coils squeaking noisily beneath her weight. "Whatever happens tomorrow, we'll be better prepared if we get some sleep." She smiled slightly as she added, "We tend to get killed less often that way."

Scooting over to the far side, she lay down. A slightly sour and very disagreeable odour wafted up from the stained surface and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Still, their only other choice was sleeping on the concrete floor, an option that was only marginally less appealing.

"This is insane," Joe whispered incredulously as he stretched himself out beside her. "Yesterday I was giving a presentation to a roomful of corporate lawyers. Now I'm being auctioned off by people who are convinced I'm a government agent."

"Try not to think about it." Amanda propped herself up on one elbow and faced him. "Just think about how happy everyone is going to be when you're home safe again."

"Is that what you do in a situation like this?" he asked sarcastically. "Think happy thoughts like Pollyanna?"

"Well, it's better than obsessing about things until you get hysterical," she pointed out, wishing yet again that it was Lee who was there with her. Or even better, that none of them were in this predicament at all.

"Fine, but I highly doubt that I'll be able to get any sleep tonight," he protested as she reached out and covered them with the thin blanket lying at their feet. "I don't think this place will be getting the AAA's endorsement any time soon."

Despite Joe's pessimism, before too many minutes had passed, Amanda heard his breathing level off into that of a light sleep. She only wished she could believe the confident words she'd said to him.

There were just too many things that could go wrong. What if their captors discovered who Joe really was? What if someone else purchased them before the Agency found out what was going on?

She shivered and tried to suppress her depressing chain of thought. Of course the Agency would be monitoring the information networks. She should take some of her own advice and focus on positive thoughts of her own, instead of obsessing about things over which she had no control.

Joe rolled away from her, pulling the blanket with him. Amanda couldn't help but smile. That was one thing from her first marriage she certainly didn't miss. Well, one of many. Her mind wandered back to the first morning of her marriage to Lee.

She'd slept long past her normal time, not waking until sunlight filtered through the curtains and across their bed. Turning over, she'd smiled as she saw Lee stretched out beside her, still fast asleep. It was no wonder; they'd been up pretty late the night before.

For a while she just lay there, listening to the soft sound of her husband's breathing. Her smile widened at that thought. Her husband. Lee. Hers. She was overcome by a sense not of ownership, but of contentment and belonging. He was hers, but then, she was his. They belonged to and with each other.

Slowly she reached out and let a few strands of his hair slip through her fingers. She didn't want to wake him, but felt a need to connect to him in some small way. His hair was incredibly soft to her touch; no wonder he ran his fingers through it so often. She could happily spend the whole day lying there doing just that.

After a few minutes Lee opened his eyes, the twin of her smile appearing on his face.

"Good morning," she whispered, drawing her fingers through his hair once more, then down along his cheek.

Lee turned his head so his lips grazed her fingertips. "Good morning to you, too." He yawned and stretched slightly, the sheet slipping down just far enough to give her a tantalizing glimpse of his upper torso.

She moved her hand to his shoulder, then caressed his chest. Splaying out her fingers against his skin, she luxuriated in the feel of his naked body beneath her hand. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"I'm not," he said. "This is the best wake-up call I've ever had." Leaning over, he briefly touched his lips to hers. "And I'm sorry about last night."

"Last night?" she echoed, perplexed. "Lee, last night was wonderful. Well, once the chambermaid left, and it was hardly your fault she was so slow."

"No, I seem to remember you once saying that sex with me was a 'major disappointment'. So I thought maybe I should apologize." He turned away from her with a theatrical sigh and gazed up at the ceiling. "You know, I could phone ahead to the hotel in California and ask for a roll-away bed for tonight. I understand they charge a bit extra, but . . ."

Amanda lay there for a moment with her mouth hanging open. Suddenly realizing that he was teasing, she snatched up one of her pillows and hit Lee over the head. He reached out in an attempt to grab the pillow from her, and a short but spirited wrestling match ensued.

"Okay, okay, I give up," Lee finally said, holding up his hands to ward off her blows.

Amanda tossed her pillow off to the side and sank down on the bed beside him. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. "I guess you're right; a roll-away bed wouldn't look right on our honeymoon."

"You know, about what I said back then – about you being a disappointment . . ." Amanda snuggled even closer. "Maybe the problem was just that I hadn't done enough research into the matter."

"Hmm . . . and this is certainly one time you should know your topic thoroughly." He tightened his grasp on her shoulder, his fingers caressing her bare skin.

She leaned down and pressed her mouth against his body, slowly mapping a path down his chest with a series of soft, lingering kisses.

"Amanda," he moaned, in a tone that warmed her from the inside out.

She looked up to find such a look of love and longing in his eyes that it was almost overwhelming. "In fact, I think I should conduct an extensive investigation into the subject," she whispered.

"I like that idea." Lee's voice had also sunk to a barely audible husky pitch. "And there's no time like the present for getting started."

He brushed his lips against her throat, the morning stubble on his face tickling her skin. Slowly he ran his left foot up her leg, tracing a line from her ankle to the top of her calf. Moving his foot to the back of her knee, he insistently drew her closer. She willing obliged by slipping her leg between his and pressing her body against him . . .

Joe gave a small snore, jolting Amanda back to her present surroundings. She quickly sat up and tried to still her rapid breathing. Maybe that wasn't the best choice of memories to focus on under the circumstances.

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"Billy, I paraded myself up and down this town until four in the morning. Nightclubs, bars, the Kennedy Center, restaurants, the Mall, you name it, I went there. Nothing, not so much as a nibble."

Francine yawned. "Well, it was even less thrilling to sit in the van and listen to all of this second hand. And what do you mean, not even a nibble? There was that hooker around two a.m. I think she wanted to take a big bite out of you."

"Stow it, Francine." Billy frowned. "Why don't you go home and get a few hours of sleep? That goes for you, too, Scarecrow. I'll have a team keep watch outside your apartment."

Francine headed out into the bullpen, but Lee remained stubbornly in his chair. "No way, Billy. I'm not going to be able to get a wink of sleep until we have Amanda back."

"Lee, you're not going to be able to do anything to help Amanda if you're falling asleep on your feet," Billy pointed out.

Their argument was cut short by the beep of the intercom on the desk. "Mr. Melrose?" his assistant said. "I hate to interrupt you, but T.P. Aquinas is holding for you on line two and he says it's urgent."

"I'll take it in here." Billy picked up the receiver. "Melrose here. What can I do for you?" After listening for a few moments he said, "What? That's impossible." He paused, then added, "I'm putting you on speaker phone; would you mind repeating that?"

Billy looked across his office to where Lee had begun nervously pacing. "I think you should hear this." He punched the button to activate the speaker. "Go ahead, T.P."

"I was saying, now that they have Lee too, we should -"

"What?" Lee said in surprise. "T. P., I'm right here. They didn't grab me; they took Amanda."

Lee could hear the surprise in his friend's voice. "But the word on the street is that you and your partner went on the auction block first thing this morning. Naturally I assumed you'd been kidnapped."

"Don't I wish," Lee said in disgust. "That was the plan, but it didn't work out." If only it had, he thought bitterly, then I'd be with Amanda and at least I'd have some clue about what's happening.

"Lee, there's something very wrong here," T. P. said slowly.

"You don't have to tell me that. What the hell is going on?" He blew out a sigh of exasperation and sat down again.

"Wait a second," Billy interrupted. "Here's a possibility. We thought yesterday afternoon's meeting at the Folger might have been an attempt to grab Scarecrow."

"Yeah, but they didn't go after me," Lee pointed out. "They must have figured out Joe wasn't my partner since they took Amanda."

"But what if they didn't realize their mistake?" Billy mused.

T. P. broke in. "I see what you mean. What if they thought *she* was Scarecrow and Joe was her partner? So now they'd assume they have the complete set, and start brokering a deal."

"Exactly. Lee, you said yourself that Amanda hasn't been spending as much time with you since she got back from California."

"And if they saw Joe with her at the house . . . " Lee continued. "You know this actually might explain everything. I'm going to call Augie and get him to set up a buy. I can pose as a potential client." He stood up and took a step towards the door.

"Now, wait a minute, Lee. You can't be the buyer. They probably saw you yesterday at the Folger."

"But they haven't seen me." T. P. pointed out. "I'd be glad to help get Mrs. King back. I'll get things moving ASAP."

"Sounds like a good idea to me. Call us as soon as you have more information. Oh, and get Augie to ask for proof that Amanda and Joe are both all right. That should buy us some more time to make arrangements," Billy said.

"I'll get right on it." There was a click as the phone connection was broken.

Lee turned back to Billy. "Billy, this is Amanda we're talking about," he said emphatically. "I can't just sit on the sidelines and let other people try to get her back."

Billy shook his head. "Lee, you have to think logically. If they recognize you, you could end up getting Amanda and Joe killed."

"Then I'll have to find a way to make sure that doesn't happen." Lee turned and headed out of the office with a determined stride.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

Amanda awoke as a flash of light erupted in front of her eyes. "What the . . ." Joe muttered, struggling to sit up beside her. She reached out a hand and found the front page of the Washington Post's early edition draped across them.

"Hold still," Zinoviev said. "We want to be sure to get your good sides."

Another of his henchmen stood beside their mattress, rapidly taking one Polaroid after another. As soon as he had finished, he quickly gathered up the pictures from the floor.

Zinoviev nodded at him. "Distribute the photographs to the various drop sites. I expect to get the first offers within the hour and our customers will want to see some kind of evidence as to the quality of our merchandise."

The man hurried from the room, leaving Amanda and Joe alone with Zinoviev and his ever present gun-wielding assistant.

"I trust you had a restful night?" Zinoviev asked in a tone that managed to be both solicitous and menacing at the same time. "You must be hungry. Breakfast will be here momentarily, but I assume you'll want to freshen up first. This way, if you don't mind." He turned and headed out the door.

Bewildered and still half asleep, Amanda and Joe stumbled to their feet. They followed their captor out of the room and a short distance down the hall, conscious of the armed guard following close behind.

"You first," the man grunted at Amanda, training his gun on Joe. "You've got three minutes, or I start shooting."

Amanda gulped, then hurried through the door he'd indicated to find herself in a tiny bathroom. After quickly attending to her body's needs, she splashed some water on her face and scanned her surroundings. The toilet tank was chained shut, the room bare except for a solitary roll of toilet paper on the floor. Even the bathroom mirror had been removed. There was absolutely nothing she could use as a tool or weapon.

"Your time's up," her captor called harshly from outside. "Get out here."

She opened the door and switched places with Joe. As she stood waiting in the hall, her captor sadistically nudged her with the muzzle of his gun. She could felt a bead of sweat form at the back of her neck, then slowly dribble down her spine. She glanced up to find the Russian with a cruel sneer on his face, obviously enjoying her discomfort.

A short time later, she and Joe were escorted back to their room to find that a tray of food had been provided for them. "Bon appetit," Zinoviev said hospitably as they left the two of them alone.

Joe sank down on the mattress, letting out a deep breath. "This is no way to begin the day," he muttered.

"Tell me about it." Amanda sank down beside him and reached out for the tray of food. Milk, juice, and muffins had been provided, all in their original sealed packages. At least they didn't have to worry about being drugged.

Her stomach was so tightly clenched she doubted she'd be able to get much down, but she knew that starving herself wouldn't help anyone in the long run. Besides, she had to provide as good an example as possible for Joe.

***** end of part five *****


	6. Chapter 6 of 7

**Part Six**

Francine knocked on the door of Billy's office and watched through the blinds until he motioned for her to come in. She entered the room and waited for him to finish his phone conversation.

"Five million in cash isn't an unreasonable starting price, but haggle with them enough so they think we're serious. And get over here with those photographs as soon as you can." Billy hung up the phone and gestured for her to take a seat.

"Was that T.P.?" Francine asked curiously.

Billy nodded. "He's got Augie started on the first round of negotiations."

"Where exactly do you expect to get five million in cash?" she asked, arching one eyebrow questioningly. "No way is Dr. Smyth going to okay that kind of expense."

"He doesn't have to," he replied. "A friend of mine at the FBI helped bust a counterfeiting ring last year. Apparently the bills were of such high quality that they weren't even sure at first that they were bogus. I called him up earlier and they're letting us borrow what we need."

Francine frowned. "That's hardly standard operating procedure. I'm surprised your friend agreed to it."

"Let's just say he owed me a big favour." Billy sat down at his desk. "And now I'm going to owe him one, which I'm sure he'll remember to call in at some point in the future. Anyway, their courier should be here with the bills any minute."

She gave a mock shudder. "Couriers. I swear they're the lowest form of life on this planet next to informants. When the FBI hired the last one I had the displeasure of meeting, they definitely were scraping the bottom of the barrel. The guy actually had the nerve to ask me out for 'pizza and beer'." She reached down and flicked a minuscule piece of lint from her skirt.

"Well the next time I have an agent missing I'll be sure to take your dating requirements into consideration," Billy said dryly.

"I didn't mean that," Francine replied archly. "Amanda and I may not be the best of friends, but I'm worried about her too. It's just all this waiting around; I don't like being helpless anymore than Lee does."

She was interrupted by the ringing of Billy's phone. He answered it and gave a few brief instructions. After hanging up the receiver, he turned to Francine. "The courier's here. Peterson's escorting him down."

She nodded then asked, "What type of procedure is T.P. trying to arrange for the exchange?"

"Earhart Routine. We'll let them pick the location so they think they're in control of the situation."

She nodded again. "That should work well. We can always dust the bills and have a secondary team do the tracking."

"I'm assigning you and Neiman to go along with T.P. Since Augie's the middleman, you can pose as one of the girls from his escort service. Neiman can be the chauffeur."

Francine sighed. "I'll dig my 'happy hooker' dress out the closet." As she rolled her eyes, she glanced in the direction of the bullpen. "Billy, I think your courier's arrived. Either that or Fielder's no longer the most repellent man who works here," she said in a tone of unmistakable contempt, standing up and moving closer to the window. "I think they managed to dig even lower down than the bottom of the barrel this time." Her upper lip curled as she opened the door in response to a tentative knock.

The man in the doorway stood back deferentially, as if he was used to being ordered about by others. His posture was stooped, making it impossible to determine his actual height. A thinning amount of dark hair was slicked down against his scalp, instantly causing Billy to recall the old Brill Cream slogan, "a little dab'll do ya." His face was partially obscured both by the large glasses he wore and by a moustache that had been clipped with mathematical precision. A light dusting of dandruff covered the shoulders of his dark blue polyester suit.

"Come in." Billy got up from his chair and crossed the room, since Francine seemed to be frozen in place. "I'm William Melrose, and this is Francine Desmond."

"Walter J. Anderson." He gave a dry cough and extended his hand towards Billy. The large briefcase handcuffed to his wrist swung out and knocked against Francine. "I'm so sorry," he said, turning to her apologetically, dropping the folder he had tucked under his arm in the process.

His voice was oddly pitched as if at some point during puberty it had gotten stuck and never quite finished the transition. Nervously, he retrieved his folder and stood up. Another collision with the briefcase ensued as he reached to push his glasses up his nose.

"Why don't I just take that from you," Billy suggested.

"I'm afraid I have to insist that you first sign form LHOTP-8 authorizing me to release the contents into your control." Anderson opened the folder and began to dig through its contents, muttering to himself as he thumbed through the sheaf of papers. "STB5, LHOTP-6, I was sure, I had an LHOTP-8 here somewhere." Behind the man's back Billy could see Francine shaking her head in disbelief.

After a few minutes, Anderson looked up with a frown. "I seem to have forgotten the pertinent form. I'm afraid I may have to go back to the office, and get another one."

Billy shot him a sharp look, causing the courier to immediately resume his search. "But, there must be one here somewhere; I was certain I took one along. Ah, yes, here we are." Finally he straightened up and held out a sheaf of paper in triplicate.

Billy snatched the proffered form. "Thank you," he said, scrawling his signature on the indicated line. He gave the document back to Anderson, who carefully tucked it into his file, then turned to leave.

"The briefcase," Billy snapped, the edge of annoyance in his voice becoming more pronounced.

"Oh, right, sorry," Anderson apologized again. He dug into his pocket, then looked up sheepishly. "I seem to have misplaced the key."

Billy sighed in exasperation. "Francine, could you please go get a half-rake and help out our friend here?"

The next few minutes involved a bit of awkward manoeuvring on Francine's part as she struggled to remove the cuffs while minimizing any physical contact with the courier. Finally Billy was able to take possession of the briefcase. "Thank you," he said curtly, turning back to his desk, effectively dismissing the man.

Anderson walked back to the door, then paused. "Mr. Melrose, there is one more thing."

"Lee, I told you earlier the answer was no," Billy replied. "I don't care how much time you spent on level six letting them transform you into Francine's worst dating nightmare."

Lee straightened to his full height, removed the stiff little moustache, glasses and wig and pulled off some face putty. "Come on, you didn't catch on right away and you've known me for years."

"But we don't know how much surveillance these Russians have done before kidnapping Amanda. Exactly how inept do you think they are?" Billy asked.

"Well, they do think that Amanda King is a top level spy," Francine pointed out. "And you didn't have me fooled for a minute." She lapsed back into silence when both Lee and Billy shot her a sharp look.

"Lee, the answer is still no," Billy said firmly. "How is it going to help Amanda and Joe if you're recognized as an agent?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Lee said thoughtfully, "maybe we should go another route."

***** SMK *** SMK *** SMK *****

"It's such a beautiful day for a ride in the country, don't you think? Pity you can't enjoy the scenery." Zinoviev was at his most convivial as they hurtled around yet another corner.

Amanda only wished that their captors had used earplugs on them as well as blindfolds and ropes before taking them out to the van. If she had to listen to Zinoviev's pseudo-cordial drivel for much longer, she thought she might start screaming. It didn't help that once again they'd been following a circuitous route that she had no hope of ever being able to retrace.

The van swayed to the left, causing Joe to lean into her. Despite the fact that they both had their wrists firmly tied he managed to clasp one of her hands in his. She could understand his need for some sort of friendly contact. What she wouldn't give for Lee's reassuring touch right then.

"What's going to happen to us?" Joe whispered.

Amanda had no idea if they could be overheard by any of their captors or not. "It'll be okay," she replied, trying to put as much confidence in her voice as possible. "I'm sure the Agency has everyone out looking for us."

"I hope you're right," Joe said with a sigh.

She took a deep breath and tried to steady her own nerves. Even if the Agency wasn't able to find them, she'd be damned if she'd go down without a fight. At some point their captors would let down their guard, if only for an instant, and she'd be ready. It might be a foolhardy attempt, but she'd have to try something.

Amanda wrapped her fingers more tightly around Joe's, wondering if the bead of sweat that trickled between them had come from him or her. There was no denying it; she was afraid. She was supposed to be the strong one, the seasoned agent, Scarecrow's highly touted protégé, and yet she could feel a cold dread deep inside. This time there might not be a last minute rescue, no happy ending. Maybe her luck had run out at last.

Amanda momentarily tuned out her surroundings, thinking only of her family and Lee, who was now part of it. The whole situation was so bitterly unfair: her sons would be left without a parent, orphaned in a single blow. She realized that in the back of her mind, she'd always counted on Joe being there to take care of them if anything happened to her.

Hopefully her mother and sons would keep in contact with Lee. He was related to them, whether they knew it or not. They needed him and he needed them, whether he knew it or not.

Lee. Her heart ached as she thought of her husband. What would happen to him? She only hoped that he wouldn't close himself off to the world as he had done in the past.

She remembered the man who'd had such a flippant attitude towards life back when they had met. It had taken such a long time to coax him out from behind that protective wall he'd built to shield himself from hurt. He hadn't seen that in actuality, it had been only too effective, cutting him off from everything good the world had to offer too. For so long, he'd stubbornly tried to block her every attempt to reach out to him. She smiled faintly, back then Lee hadn't had a clue what stubborn really was.

The van jerked to an abrupt halt, causing Joe and Amanda to fall against each other. As the door was gratingly pulled open, the sound and scent of open water assailed her senses. A few minutes later, they stood on the deck of a boat, trying to keep their balance despite the fact that they were still blindfolded and with their hands bound.

They were taken into a cabin and pushed onto a bench. It was difficult to tell for sure with various people coming and going but at least one guard stayed with them at all times as the boat got underway.

It was somewhere around a half hour by Amanda's estimate before their captors uncovered their eyes. She stood blinking in the sunlight, peering through the cabin windows in all directions to see where they were. Only a thin smudge of dark green on the horizon indicated the shore. Chesapeake Bay, her mind thought idly. They wouldn't be so far from shore if they were on the Potomac.

No other boats were in sight and she felt her spirits plummet again. She recalled the time when she and Lee had piloted the Mata Hari together and could only hope that he was somewhere out there on the bay searching for her. But would he or anyone else from the Agency even know to look for them out here?

Lee carefully manoeuvred the limousine through the early evening traffic south of Dupont Circle. "We're almost there. You both ready?" He glanced in the rear view mirror.

"Of course." Francine reached up and carefully smoothed a wayward strand of hair. "You know, you have to give these Russians some credit. Whatever their taste in hostages, they certainly know their restaurants. It's not easy to get a reservation Le Lion d'Or."

Lee pulled into the drop-off area in front of the upscale eatery. He stepped out and circled the vehicle, so he could hold the door open for Francine and T.P. As she crossed the sidewalk, Francine gave a squeal of delight, playing her role to the hilt. "Oooh, Percy, it's so pretty," she said, pointing to the baskets of flowers flanking the entrance. Lee watched as T.P. put his arm around his blonde companion and escorted her inside.

He returned to the car and moved down the street to find a parking space. Surveillance had never been one of his favourite assignments, but tonight night it was even less tolerable than usual. After forty-five of some of the longest minutes of his life, he was willing to concede that Amanda had been right all along; waiting in the car was highly over-rated.

He got out of the limo and stretched to his neck to work out the kinks. Glancing around, there didn't seem to be anyone who might be keeping him under surveillance. He grabbed a briefcase from the backseat and hurried down the street and into the restaurant.

He quickly located the table where T.P. and Francine were sitting. Francine was continuing to play up her cover. She and T.P. were apparently wrapped up in each other's company, at one point even feeding each other bites of their entrees. Lee wondered if he and Amanda had ever looked that revolting to their fellow diners back when they had started dating.

Walking up to their table, he cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me, sir."

Francine glanced up at him, disdain evident in her every feature. "Percy, I think your driver wants to speak to you."

"Sir, you left your briefcase in the car," Lee explained obsequiously. "Earlier you said you still needed to double check the Browerton file before dropping it off tonight. If this is going to be a working dinner, I thought might need some of your paperwork." He held out the briefcase.

"Does it look like I plan on going over any papers right now?" T.P. glowered at him. "Just take it over the bar and wait for me there. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Lee nodded and slunk across the room to the adjoining bar. "A gimlet, please," he said to the bartender, after setting the briefcase down.

Francine was right, he thought glancing around the room. Le Lion d'Or really was a wonderful restaurant. He'd had taken Amanda there not long before to celebrate their three month anniversary.

Soft lighting accentuated the cream coloured walls and tented ceiling. The walls were adorned with platters from Provence and gilt-edged paintings of pastoral scenes. A small crystal vase containing a single blush rose adorned each table. The brass sconces and chandeliers added to the ambiance of the French countryside decor.

Lee sipped at his drink, letting his mind wander back to that earlier evening. He'd called in a favour and managed to reserve one of the more secluded booths in the back. His smile grew as he remembered the look of love in Amanda's eyes as they'd exchanged presents. Then the even more memorable celebration back at his apartment.

His reminiscing was interrupted when an older gentleman crossed through the bar on his way to the cloakroom. He stumbled as he passed Lee's chair, the briefcase he carried falling to the floor.

Lee quickly got up. "Let me help you, sir" he said, assisting the man to his feet while at the same time surreptitiously switching the two cases. After the other man retrieved his coat and headed out of the restaurant, Lee glanced over at T.P. and Francine, giving a quick decisive nod.

***** end of part six *****


	7. Chapter 7 conclusion

**Part Seven**

"No, not that one, the other one." Amanda struggled with the ropes binding Joe's hands. Now that her own bonds were loosened she could make much better progress. "Just be prepared to move when I give the signal, okay?" He nodded and she continued to pick away at the last knot.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, she swiftly pulled back, holding her own hands together so that the weakened state of the ropes wouldn't be immediately apparent. Luckily neither Zinoviev nor the accompanying guard seemed to notice that anything was amiss.

"I'm sure you're both enjoying your voyage, but perhaps you'd like a little entertainment. I've arranged for a live performance." Zinoviev pointed down the deck and waited for them to precede him out of the cabin.

Joe glanced at Amanda, confusion all over his face. She shrugged, indicating that she had no more idea than he did about what was going on. After taking them to the main cabin, Zinoviev indicated a padded bench. "Do have a seat; you'll enjoy the show so much more if you're comfortable."

He waited until they were seated, then turned to a radio sitting on a nearby table. One of the Russians was listening to a pair of headphones, while a spool of tape slowly revolved, capturing every word. Zinoviev fiddled with one of the knobs on a speaker, suddenly bringing a voice into focus.

"It's got to be around here somewhere. The map they left for us said it was two miles down this road and we've come almost that far."

Lee! Amanda gasped and leaned forward, as if by sheer effort she'd be able to see and not just hear him.

"Over there, on the right." Now it was T.P. Aquinas.

Amanda listened intently, but all she could distinguish for the next few minutes was the sound of a car engine.

"There's something sticking out of the mailbox." Lee again. She drank in every word, acutely aware that this might be the last time she'd ever hear his voice.

"I'm afraid we've sent your friends on a bit of a wild-goose chase." Zinoviev interrupted the sound of the car stopping and its doors being opened. "They really thought they could fool us into making a bargain with them."

"What have you got?" Amanda turned back to the radio as Francine spoke up for the first time.

"It's just a picture of Amanda and Joe. And a note." Amanda could hear the strain in Lee's voice. Her heart ached for him and the anguish he must have gone through in the past two days.

"What does it say?" Francine again.

Lee's voice shook slightly as he read, "So sorry to disappoint you. Better luck next time." There was a catch in his voice as the meaning of the words sunk in. "Damn it! They double-crossed us! They must have been on to us the whole time. I swear, I'm going to kill Augie with my bare hands."

"Lee, calm down," she heard T.P. urging him. "We'll think of something else to try."

"Calm down? Calm down?" Lee lashed out. "We'll what? What? There is nothing else for us to do. It's over, don't you get it? We've got no leads, no clues, nothing. She's gone." His voice trailed off and he repeated in a bewildered tone, "She's gone. How can she be gone?"

Francine's voice was brisk. "Lee, you don't know that. Yes, these guys got the jump on us this time, but we're not beaten yet. We'll go back to the Agency and go over everything with a fine-toothed comb."

Zinoviev reached out and turned off the speaker. "It would seem your old partner still harbours a great deal of affection for you. Pity he still isn't competent enough to effect a rescue."

Joe looked at Amanda, the despair in his eyes tearing at her heart. "I don't believe this," he said brokenly.

"Oh, I'm afraid it's all too true." Zinoviev laughed, the sound grating on her nerves again. "It's unfortunate for your sake that I immediately saw through your Agency's childishly transparent attempt to set up a buy. Not that I wasn't happy to take their money. So I'm afraid you'll have to rely on the kindness of strangers for a while longer. But I'm certain your new owners will take excellent care of you. At least until you provide them with the information they want."

Amanda could feel a lump build up in her chest, as if someone had suddenly placed a heavy object on her rib cage. She thought back to the Monte Carlo night the PTA had held a few years earlier. Any gambler worth his salt would have walked away from the table long before now. Instead she had pushed her luck time and time again, always so sure things would work out in the end. Well, this time she'd gone bust with a vengeance.

"In fact, I think your new friends are here now." Zinoviev reached out and pulled her to her feet. She glanced out the window and saw another boat approaching in the distance. He turned back to the man monitoring the radio and barked out some instructions in Russian.

The minute his back was turned, Amanda mouthed the word 'now' at Joe. She grabbed him by the hand and dashed through the cabin door. In one movement they had hurtled themselves across the narrow deck and over the railing. Amanda gasped as her body hit the water in a clumsy dive that was more belly flop than anything else.

Taking in as large a mouthful of air as she could, she dove underwater. Paddling frantically, she tried simultaneously to rid herself of the ropes still partially binding her wrists and to put as much distance between herself and the boat as possible. When her lungs were all but exploding for lack of oxygen, she briefly broke the surface, gasped in another mouthful of air and dove under again.

She could hear a small boat approaching from behind and desperately redoubled her efforts. She flailed out as strong arms reached out and grasped her, pulling her from the water. "No!" she screamed, lashing out against the men who held her, pettily satisfied when her fist made contact with one of their faces.

"Amanda! Stop, it's me!" A voice finally registered through the haze of her anger.

"Sir? Mr. Melrose?" she sputtered, still choking up water.

"Yes, it's me. It's all right; you're safe now." He motioned to the man guiding the dingy that they should head back to the larger boats. She looked over at Joe, who was grinning at her despite being out of breath himself. Behind him she could see agents on the deck of the Russian boat, holding Zinoviev and his friends at gunpoint.

She turned back to Billy, who was gingerly feeling the spot on his face where her fist had connected. "Sir, I am so sorry," she said. "I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, I realize that," he said ruefully. "These things happen. I promised Lee I would make sure you were okay."

"Lee," she said. "Where is he? Does he know we're all right?"

"Relax, Amanda, he's fine. He was in on this whole thing. We made two offers to the Russians, figuring that if they knew one was a setup they'd let their guard down and accept the other. Lee's on his way to meet us back at the dock. I imagine right now he's busy breaking every speed limit between Maryland and here."

Even after Amanda was on board the Agency boat, a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't real, that it couldn't be. Even the sight of Joe, similarly wrapped up beside her, couldn't banish the feeling that any minute now she'd wake up and find the two of them back in that cell.

She paused in her recitation of the events of the past few days, causing the agent who was recording her words to look up with concern. "Mrs. King, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, then continued on with her debriefing. She knew she'd have to go over everything again at the Agency in greater detail but it did help to try to organize her thoughts.

As they approached the shore, she could see several people standing on the dock. Even before she could make out their features she knew which one was Lee. She kept her eyes focused on him, drinking in the sight she had been so afraid she'd never have the chance to see again. It barely registered in her brain that he was wearing some sort of uniform and had somehow grown a moustache since she'd last seen him.

The minute the boat was close enough, Lee reached out a hand to grasp the railing, as if he could single-handedly pull the boat closer. He leapt over the railing and rushed over to her. And finally as she felt his arms go around her and pull her close, she truly felt safe again.

*** SMK *** SMK *** SMK ***

Upon arrival at Lee's apartment, Amanda felt as if she couldn't get into the shower fast enough. She stood under the scalding spray, relentlessly scrubbing at her skin to remove every trace of Chesapeake Bay. How could less than five minutes in the water have made her feel so filthy?

Even after she finally began to feel clean again, she remained in the shower for a few additional minutes. The steam of the water blended with the scent of soap and shampoo, their soothing warmth washing tension away from her body.

During the past few days she had tried so hard to think of Lee only as her partner, not as her husband. Out of necessity she had, as much as she could, locked up all thoughts and feelings about him as if in the vault in their office. Now though, it was if the door had been thrown open and all those emotions were spilling out, demanding to be acknowledged.

As if on cue, she heard Lee open the bathroom door and walk in. "Don't mind me; I'm just looking for something to get the last of this junk off my face."

"And I was just starting to get used to you in a moustache," Amanda teased. She waited a moment before adding, "Why don't you join me in here?" No answer. A quick peek around the shower curtain showed that he had already left the room.

With a small sigh of regret, she stepped out of the shower and towelled off. After twisting up her hair and securing it with a few pins, she slipped on her robe and walked into the bedroom. Unexpectedly, the room was in semidarkness - she stood there for a moment, blinking at the sudden change in lighting.

As her eyes adjusted to the shadowy light she realized one of the bedside lamps was on but turned to its lowest setting. Her expression softened as she took in the sight of the bedcovers invitingly turned down. A pair of unlit candles was waiting on the dresser.

Amanda walked over to the bed and lightly fingered the sheets, the fabric cool and soft beneath her fingertips.

"Hi."

She turned at the sound of Lee's voice. "Hi, yourself."

He stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. The tie of his robe was undone, revealing that he wore only a pair of boxer shorts underneath. His eyes never left hers as he slowly crossed over to her and placed a small bowl on the nightstand. "I was just warming up some scented oil. Thought you might like a massage after your ordeal."

Mutely she nodded. Lee reached up and cupped her face in his hands. His gaze roamed over her features as he studied her intently. "I'm so glad you're safe," he murmured just before touching his lips to hers. "And you have to promise me something."

"What?" she asked. "Tell me what you want." She reached up to smooth a few errant strands of hair from his forehead.

"Always come back to me." His eyes bored into hers. "Like you did today; promise me."

"Always," she whispered, knowing that if was at all in her power she'd never let anything or anyone separate them. She pushed aside the lapels of his robe and ran her hands over his bare chest. Sliding her arms around his neck, she drew him closer. She could feel his hands stroking down her sides, then reaching for the sash holding her robe closed. His nimble fingers made short work of the knot she'd tied.

Lee pressed his lips to hers again, intensifying their contact while easing her robe over her shoulders. Amanda dropped her arms to her sides, letting the garment slip to the floor. "A massage sounds wonderful," she whispered as he bent to place a trail of greedy kisses down the slope of her collarbone and onto her shoulder.

"Why don't you lie down so we can do this properly?" He folded back the covers further so she could stretch out on the bed. With a sigh, she lay on her stomach, snuggling her cheek against a pillow and curling her arms around it.

Lee discarded his own robe and walked over to the dresser. The only sound in the room was the scratching of a match against the box as he lit the candles. Returning to the bed, he turned off the lamp. Shadows flickered and danced across the wall as he settled himself beside Amanda. Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda watched him lean over and dip his fingers into the small dish of oil.

"Night blooming jasmine's your favourite, right?" he asked.

"Ummm . . . hmmm . . ." She sighed as he moved his hands to her shoulder blades and gently began to knead her muscles. The last bit of tension flowed out of her body as his deft fingers worked their magic. Amanda leisurely stretched and gave herself over to the moment - the sheer pleasure of his hands caressing her body, the slick feel of the oil being worked into her skin.

This was what she had longed for the entire time they'd been apart. Everyone else who had touched her had felt so wrong. The Russians who had grabbed her, forcing her to go where they wanted. Even Joe, clutching her hands, nervously seeking reassurance. Now Lee was the one whose hands held her, working his way over her body, claiming back what was his.

It was such a wonderfully soothing sensation that, in spite of her earlier intentions, she could feel herself begin to doze off. Just as she was drifting into sleep, she heard Lee call her name.

"Mmmm . . ." she breathed out, gliding along the very edge of wakefulness.

"Amanda," he repeated, his hands ceasing their movements. "You're not falling asleep, are you?"

Hearing the slightly amused tone in his voice she quickly opened her eyes. Propping herself up on one elbow, she looked back over her shoulder at him. "Asleep? Of course not," she protested.

"Good." His lips curved up in an inviting smile. "It would be a major blow to my ego if I couldn't hold your attention for even five minutes. I'd hate to think I'd lost my touch."

"Never." She turned her head back to the pillow as he brushed his hands over her ribcage then slowly down the hollow of her spine. An aching shiver of longing and need trailed in the wake of his fingertips. His caresses, warm and soothing a just few minutes earlier, were now decidedly different in tone.

"Lee," she moaned, arching her body towards him.

"Shh . . ." He leaned down, his lips grazing her neck. He murmured into her ear, "All in good time. Just relax and enjoy this.

He began another series of lingering strokes down the length of her back. Another wave of slow, hot desire started at the base of her neck and spread outwards. It was as if the warm oil had gone directly into her bloodstream after being absorbed into her skin. She could feel it pulsing through her veins, languorously flowing to every part of her body.

Lee leaned down again and touched his lips against her bare shoulder before stretching out beside her. Amanda fit herself into his embrace, pressing her body against his.

"Amanda." His gaze was steady now, not a hint of teasing in his eyes. "I love you."

"Oh, Lee . . ." The love she felt for him swelled up inside, an intense feeling that filled her with warmth – forceful, all-consuming. She would have felt slightly lost if she hadn't seen it reflected back in his eyes.

"No matter how many times I say those words, I feel like it's never often enough." There was a slight catch in his voice as he continued. "And events like the past few days just make me realize that all over again."

"I love you, too," she answered, her voice low and intense. "Lee, it doesn't matter how often you say the words. If there's one thing in the world that I'm sure of, it's how we feel about each other."

"I know you know that. And I know you love me. But my heart still beats faster every time I hear you say those words." He smiled at her, an unreserved, open smile. His expression grew more serious as he added, "Remember the first time you told me you loved me?"

"Of course. And I'd like to point out yet again, that I didn't do it over the phone."

He shook his head, refusing to be side-tracked. "The thing is, there were agents all over the place that day watching you and trying to find me. Going over to your house was probably the stupidest move I could have made from a tactical standpoint. But I couldn't leave without telling you in person how I felt. And I needed to hear you tell me. And every time you say those three words, I feel like it's that first time all over again and that nothing else in the world matters at all."

The look in his eyes was so full of warmth and emotion that Amanda had to fight to get her next words past the constriction in her throat. "I know what you mean. We were in the most trouble we'd ever been in, but when I found you there in my room, it was like nothing bad could ever happen to us again. It was the most incredible thing that you'd risked everything just to come back and see me."

"Are you saying actions speak louder than words?" The husky timbre of his voice caused another shiver to run down her spine.

"Something like that." She gently kissed his face, working her way from his forehead, to his eyelids, to his nose and upper lip, tenderly pressing her lips against an abrasion left by the adhesive he'd used earlier.

"An intriguing theory, and one I think we should put to the test." He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. "And there's no time like the present."

"Besides," she said, leaning over his body and pointing towards the dresser. "We really shouldn't go to sleep while the candles are still burning. They would be a fire hazard."

"But I don't want to get up," he protested, pulling her arm down and planting a slow kiss into the crook of her elbow.

"And I don't want you to either."

Lee smiled. "Then I guess our only other choice is to stay awake until the candles burn down. And that could take a while."

Amanda gave a low laugh. "I'm hoping it takes even longer than that."

**The End**


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